


A bedside conversation

by moonfairy13



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Family Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Fred Weasley Lives, Friends to Lovers, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24335971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonfairy13/pseuds/moonfairy13
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione and George sit together in vigil beside Fred's hospital bed. Will the quiet of the night allow for the conversation they need in order to shift their friendship into something else? AU where Fred survives the wall and the Hermione/Ron kiss never happened.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/George Weasley
Comments: 28
Kudos: 138





	A bedside conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Generally, I love Fred and Hermione too much to venture further afield. But here's a Geomione one shot, inspired partly by Rachelletwin2's comment on one of the Geomione snippets I posted in my '[Moonfairy's Scenes and Drabbles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24211513/chapters/58325245)' collection. 
> 
> This one now also has an extension, sharing the story of what happened to Fred's lovely healer when she left the room at the end of this. That's also in [Moonfairy's Scenes and Drabbles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24211513/chapters/58918189).
> 
> Hope you enjoy :-)

“Hermione?”

It was the first word that George had spoken in an hour. He had sat beside his twin’s bed, silent in his thoughts, since Molly had finally allowed Arthur to steer her out of Fred’s hospital room. She had left only in the wake of Arthur and Bill’s assurances. That yes, they could trust the healer’s word that Fred would be okay. As soon as the sleeping potion that he had been given while his bones healed had finally worn off. Once Hermione had added her promise that she would do her best to get George to eat some of the food that Molly had sent Ron and Ginny to bring from The Burrow, the twins' mum finally left to check on Harry and the others. 

“Yes, George?”

She moved closer to him on the sofa that they shared. It wasn’t standard St Mungos issue furniture, but Bill had expertly transfigured it from a cushioned seat. He had known that neither of the pair were likely to move off it that night, and wanted something comfy for them. After the way they had all fought, and what they had been through, it was the least Bill could do for his younger brother. And it gave Bill some comfort to be able to do something for George. George was the one sibling who had never really needed Bill as a protector; having been born just a few minutes after his own personal leader and defender. The act of sofa making had also helped Bill persuade Molly to leave, once he whispered to her that he would make something soft enough for them to fall asleep on and add a charm or two to aid that process. And there the two had sat ever since. Hermione’s hand had been on George’s thigh for an hour, reassuring him of her presence. His own hands were busy holding that of his brother, assuring Fred that he wasn’t alone; never alone. Even under the strongest pain and sleeping potion.

“I don’t know how to say thank you.”

George’s eyes filled with tears. He had felt Fred fall before he saw anything happen. He had felt it in his heart, and he was frozen in time. It was an age, but only a second, until he realised that Hermione was there, straddling the spot where his brother had last stood, combining advanced healing spells with her clever muggle first aid tricks. She had quickly cleared debris from Fred's body and issued orders to Percy and Ron in ways that somehow demanded their attention through their trauma. George would never tease Hermione for her bossiness or bookwormishness again. Ever. Her bossiness and her bookwormishness – he wondered if that was really a word, and decided that, as it suited Hermione so much, it was now, even if just for the two of them – had saved his twin. In fact, George decided, he would never let anyone tease Hermione again. 

“It’s okay, George. You just did.”

Hermione patted his leg, and levitated the food basket onto her lap. Lifting the lid, she found and unwrapped a chicken sandwich, handing one half to George as she bit into the other. She figured that, if she just passed it to him without words, he would obediently eat, out of habit, and he did. Smiling to herself, she stored the memory away, knowing that Molly would enjoy it at a later time. A softer time. A time when Fred was fully recovered and they were all home again. Somewhere cosier than this room which, despite the comfort of Bill’s sofa, wasn’t where she wanted to be. Hermione wanted to be safe at home. Or at The Burrow, listening to the twins work in tandem to tease Percy or Ron. En route to get her parents. Or even back in her dormitory, listening to Lavender and Parvati chatting about make-up and other unnecessary frivolities. Although, she supposed, she couldn’t imagine anyone she would rather be sitting next to at this moment than George. Funny that, she thought. It wasn’t until she was in the middle of saving Fred that she realised something. That, although she loved Fred fiercely, in the same way she loved Ron and Harry and Ginny, it wasn’t just Fred’s face that she saw. Although she was desperate to save Fred, it was George’s cheeky, grinning, gorgeous face that was just as constantly in her mind as she worked her magic. George's face was very like Fred’s face, of course, but there were so many differences as well. At least to her. Hermione knew, as she performed her tricks and spells to save Fred, that she couldn’t bear the idea of ever seeing George saddened; lost, without his brother. Not even for a moment. And she somehow also knew, in that same moment, that she loved him.

“Can I cuddle you?”

It wasn’t even that he wouldn’t let anyone tease her, George realised, as the words left his mouth. He would, in fact, protect Hermione until the end of time. With his body; with his mind; with his magic; with his soul. He had always felt something for Hermione, and Fred had teased him mercilessly when George’s secret had become obvious. The younger twin had grown distraught during the second task, when he had realised that Hermione was held captive under the water. With only Krum and his stupid shark head to save her. George would have dived in naked and unarmed, if Fred hadn’t been there to talk sense into him. But then Ron had told Fred that he liked Hermione, and Fred's face had fallen, and George had chosen blood over love. It had become clear in recent weeks, though, that Hermione and Ron weren’t as star-crossed as Ron had once hoped. Which meant – the thought came racing into his body before it reached his mind, and he reached for her even before she finished her answer – that George could finally tell Hermione how he felt. That he loved her.

“Of course.”

Hermione put Molly’s food basket back onto the floor, and reached for her friend. She snuggled under the long arm that he held out. Fred could spare one of George’s hands, George decided, though he continued to hold his twin’s fingers with the other. Hermione pressed her cheek to George's chest, taking a deep breath when the comfort of his touch settled over her like a blanket. They both relaxed a notch. Him for the first time since the wall had fallen; her since she had seen Harry apparently dead – although, it turned out, thankfully not. It had been quite a day. But now it was over. And this felt good. This felt really good. In fact, Hermione realised, George smelled like home. Like all her homes, rolled into one. She burrowed further into him; not wanting the comfort to end; hoping it wouldn’t.

“Can I give you a thank you kiss?”

It was a bold question, he knew. But he also knew that, if need be, if he had read things wrong, he could apologise and pass it off. A poor decision made in the heat of trauma, in the darkness of their vigil. Or, if she reacted differently to the way he hoped, he could give her a brotherly kiss; on the cheek, or on her nose. Perhaps not the Gryffindor thing to do, but best for all given that the Weasleys were Hemione’s only family until she returned her own parents to normal. And, Circe, he could feel Fred’s consciousness returning, and he needed to do something to celebrate that; to share his joy with the witch who had held his hand and given him her constant comfort since the moment Fred’s still body had been levitated onto a stretcher. Somehow she had sensed what George needed and he allowed her to occupy the space beside him - the Fred-sized gap - while he waited.

“Yes.”

It was a whisper. Almost a prayer. Made in the reverence of Fred’s silent recovery. Hermione tilted her face upwards; smiling soft encouragement. Her robes had turned red and gold too, and she more than possessed the courage to let George know he didn’t have to limit himself to a fraternal gesture. George’s lips met her own with a tender kiss which began softly and searchingly but soon turned into something more passionate. Hermione let out a gentle moan, and then giggled when she heard the outward evidence of her own desire. Slowly, a smile crossed George’s face, despite himself and the setting and their situation, and he adjusted the arm that he had allocated to Hermione so she wouldn’t be uncomfortable. They kissed again, for longer this time; trying to convey all of their feelings. Feelings that, at least for now, George couldn’t seem to express out loud. Because, as long as Fred wasn’t yet conscious, most of George’s words were being spoken in his head, to his twin.

“About time!”

The couple broke apart, eyes wide as surprise and delight overlaid desire. As one, they turned to Fred, whose first sight upon waking had been his brother finally kissing the witch he had liked for ages, and whose first words upon waking had been a croaked tease of congratulation. Quickly, Hermione leaned across George, forgetting that she owned a wand as she reached for the water that was at Fred’s bedside. George finally let go of Fred’s fingers and put an arm around his neck, supporting his brother's neck and shoulders so he could raise his head to drink. Hermione held the cup to Fred's lips and he sipped from the proffered straw, twice, before smiling at the two of them.

“As you were,” Fred said, with something that resembled his usual grin. “Don’t mind me. I need to sleep for a week.”

Fred closed his eyes, his next deep inhalation a loud snore, and his companions continued to hold each other, grinning now, while a healer came in and waved her wand a few times. After a couple of minutes, she gave them reassuring nods, a thumbs up gesture and then made a slow flapping movement with her arms to indicate, with a smile, that she would send an owl to the rest of the Weasleys. Then she left the room, turning down the lights and urging them to rest. 

“Come here, love.”

George turned to Hermione and opened his arms. Both of his arms. Fred was okay now, and they were hers. She smiled and settled into them; her face close to his. Gently, she stroked his face, the pad of her thumb meeting the scruff of a day’s growth of beard, and liking the contrast it made against the softness of his hair in the tips of her fingers. They kissed for a few more minutes, whispering and confirming promises that yes, this was really something. And they would explore it. And now that the war was over they had a whole summer to enjoy together. But, for now, they were spent. Neither noticed when the charm that Bill had placed upon the sofa activated in response to their tiredness and reclined back, wrapping around the cuddling pair. Nor did they register when the healer, watching through the door, charmed a soft blanket to cover them both. They were too tired from their efforts, from their vigil, from their relief that Fred was alive, well and grinning. The sofa and the blanket cocooned them in softness; forming a nest in which they would slumber together until they were discovered and squealed over by Molly when she returned the next morning. 

All was well.

**Author's Note:**

> [Click here to find out what happened when Fred's lovely, kind healer left the room...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24211513/chapters/58918189).


End file.
